


All of Our Tomorrows

by Glass_O_Lemonade



Series: Do you remember a time when we were so alive? [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AN at end of Chapter 4 with Explanation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Loss of Trust, Mild Language, On Hiatus, POV Multiple, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18341552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_O_Lemonade/pseuds/Glass_O_Lemonade
Summary: With the apocalypse behind them, there’s nothing to distract from their myriad of issues (both with themselves and each other.)Picks up directly after Chapter 11 of “Tonight, Bleed Into Tomorrow.” TBIT's a canon-divergent fic where Five stays in with Dolores instead of revisiting the department store. When Vanya returns, things go differently.On break! Explanation at the end of Chapter 4. 12/19/2019





	1. Luther

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY IS PRESENTLY ON A BREAK, SO I MAY REVISE IT. IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE AT THE END OF CHAPTER 4 CONTAINS A MORE DETAILED EXPLANATION. 12/19/19

The metal folding chair creaks under him as he shifts. No one comments on it, no one even looks towards him. They each sit, or in Klaus’ case lie down, their own thoughts swarming their heads. He agreed with Five, but actually waiting for the minutes to tick by was reminding him of his four years away. The thick silence wasn’t helping that.

If he closes his eyes, slows his breaths, he can almost picture the inside of Moon Station 01. The vast expanse of space before him. Suddenly, betrayal grips him, tightens its hold. The picturesque scene distorts, replaced by pulled floorboards, unopen packages, lies upon lies. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He pushes the bubbling anger back down.

He thinks someone should say something. Should he say something? Where would he start? Vanya has powers. They were almost assassinated. Five shot their sister… Does it count if the bullet never lands? If time freezes beforehand? Five said he threatened to stop the apocalypse over and over again. Does that mean he would have gone through time, killing Vanya until it stuck? What if he’s wrong? What if the Commission sends more grunts? Sends someone better than Cha-Cha? They could still die tonight and no one seems to realize that... Maybe they don’t care.

Luther clenches his hands into fists. He’s not familiar with not having the answers, not having a plan. He feels… _small_. He’s not felt like that in a long time, and it's unsettling.

He makes note that Five’s not warped this whole time, whether it be through space or time. Their brother sits in his seat, stares intently at the wall nearest him. Vanya appears out of it. Allison keeps hold of one of her hands. He sees his sister fight the exhaustion weighing her down. He wants to help, but knows better than to move over there. Vanya’s not in any state for him or Five to be approaching her.

 _And whose fault is that?_ The imaginary voice sounds almost like Diego’s, and isn’t that just annoying.

What would have happened if Five hadn’t stopped him? If Vanya hadn’t returned home? Would they be dead now? Would she have started the apocalypse? Does she want to? Did she want to in Five’s time? His siblings each reacted in opposition to his plan, one he felt in his bones was the best course of action. Now? Now… he’s not so sure. There’s a lot he thought he knew, but this week has successfully pulled the rug out from under him time after time. He’s floated through the days without a suit. He still is.

Eventually, Mom appears at the door. She offers them a soft smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. In her hands are blankets, enough for each of them. She doesn’t speak as she hands them out. Diego whispers a thanks. Five gives her a nod, leaves it folded in his lap. Grace and Allison unfold Vanya’s, rest it over her legs.

Grace gives him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder as she hands him his. It’s light, but he feels it. Briefly grounds him. Days ago he was arguing for her to be shut off. He's grateful that didn't stick for long. Without her they might have lost Five and Allison.

Their mom quietly shuts the door on her way out, as she knows none of them will be leaving any time soon.

Luther suspects Pogo must be asleep by now.

Vanya breaks the silence first, her words softer than a whisper. They leave her as she exhales. “I’m sorry.” Luther doesn’t know who she’s apologizing to or for what. She should be angrier than any of them, but all she can muster is an apology. Your own brother attempts to kill you and blames the apocalypse on you, and you _apologize?_ Luther feels dumb at his own thoughts. He saw her as a threat the moment Allison informed him it was Vanya who sliced her throat. There he was, throwing stones he has no right to throw.

Allison writes a single word, holds it up for Vanya to read. Luther bends forward, sees it as Allison turns it around, sets it back down. _Rest._

There they sit, waiting for time to pass. Vanya eventually falls asleep, leans on Allison, lies her head on her sister’s shoulder. Allison shuts her eyes, drifts. Luther hopes she’s able to sleep despite the ominous threat still hanging over them.

Klaus hums to himself, small, short sounds. The inflection he gives them makes Luther wonder if he’s talking to someone, if the noises leaving him are actually yeahs, nos, and maybes. Could it be Ben? Luther fights the initial urge that hits him to tell his brother to quiet down. No one else was asking him to stop, why should Luther? He knows without a doubt their father would have snapped at Klaus to hush the first second he began. A sick feeling crawls itself into the back of Luther’s mind at that fact. He shakes his head, attempts to halt the track of his thoughts. If the apocalypse is truly over, then he’ll have plenty of time to evaluate those thoughts later.

Diego runs a knife through his fingers. He’s slightly hunched.

Luther’s unsure when Five finally speaks. They’re closer to midnight, but no one’s bothered to glance to the clock.

Diego looks up when Five starts. Luther notes that Klaus hasn’t murmured recently. He’s unsure when he stopped. Klaus’ face is turned away from them, so Luther doesn’t know whether he’s awake or asleep.

“I didn’t want to.” No one asks what he’s referring to. There’s no need. “It was the only way.”

“There’s _always_ another option,” Diego’s words remind him of his own said to Pogo. _There’s always a choice._ “You’re wrong, Five.” 

Luther stares down. His hands open, lies them on his lap palms up. He's never been one to admit when he was wrong. He's rarely, if ever, been wrong, but... but she protected them. Despite everything from the past week, the last twenty-four hours, Vanya defended them from the Commission, and he... he was wrong.

“Five, Diego… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“And now?”

Luther doesn’t know how to answer Diego’s question. He should know. As kids, he always knew, what to say, what to do, but this situation isn't cut and dry. It's gray. He's not familiar with that. He’s still floating.

Five runs a hand through his hair. Stress is clear on his face, in his shoulders. Luther thinks he can almost see the fifty something year old his brother actually is.

“It doesn’t matter now, Luther. You and I? We have to live with our decisions. If you don’t own it _now_ , it’ll eat you alive.”

No one speaks again after that.

When midnight finally strikes, Five breathes a sigh of relief. His entire body nearly crumples in on itself from the force. It is the only assurance Luther needs to know they’re okay.

He doesn’t know how or when, but they’re going to be okay.


	2. Diego

His sleep is anything but restful.

By one in the morning, they’re each in their own rooms. He helps Klaus to his. Luther helps Allison move Vanya. Diego confirms his sisters are safe in their beds before he makes his way to his own. Five jumps from the room the moment Luther looks ready to talk again, and Diego thinks he has the right idea. They just survived an impending apocalypse, and it is _the_ _middle of the night_. Whatever self-centered thing Luther has to say can wait. Besides, Diego’s at the end of his rope. Anymore time around his siblings and he knows he’ll either blow-up at them or break down.

Hell. He misses Eudora.

He shuts his door, bends his head and shakes. Everything from the previous week to the last twenty-four hours slams into him at once. He braces his back against the door and slides down. He knows no one’s going to knock, going to check on him. No one cares. He’s grateful for that fact. He’d hate to have Luther see him like this, have any of them see this.

There Diego sits, folds into himself, and cries. He kept it together that evening, but now alone, he allows himself to mourn, to rage. He bangs his fists on the wooden floor, squeezes his eyes closed.

Their dad was gone, dead for over a week, but even with his absence they were still as screwed up as they ever were. Shit. Probably more so now, Diego thinks darkly as the past week reruns itself in his mind. The images play on loop.

He makes it to his bed by one thirty, forces himself to lie down. He stares at the ceiling until his eyelids don’t blink back open. His sleep is anything but restful. He’s awake by five.

* * *

 

He finds Five and Mom in the kitchen. Five glowers at a mug filled with (what Diego presumes to be) coffee. Mom stands at the stove. There’s an open carton of eggs beside her. The smell of hash browns drifts from the oven.

He pulls out a seat, sits down. Grace turns her head, smiles at Diego as she greets him.

Five jerks his head up, slight surprise mars his scowling expression. He seems to almost be on high alert, but the moment quickly passes once he realizes it is Diego who’s joined them. Five returns his attention to his drink, takes a slow sip. Diego relaxes into his chair, potential danger averted.

“The guns are gone.”

Diego swears he passed at least ten left over from yesterday on his walk down here. He looks at Five quizzically, waits for him to elaborate.

“Hazel and Cha-Cha’s.”

Ah. _Those guns._

Diego stretches his neck, turns away from Five. “I dropped them off yesterday. After we talked. Beaman should have them by now.”

“That’s where you went.”

Grace turns off the stove and oven, opens the door and pulls out a tray of golden hash browns. Diego doubts he can eat anything right now, but he’ll try for Mom’s sake.

He bends his neck towards his brother, turns his head to look at him. “You made it sound like you wanted me to use them.”

Five gives a slight nod. “I did.” He takes a swig. Swallows. “Thought you might have gone off after Cha-Cha instead.”

His heart misses a beat, then speeds back into rhythm. If yesterday had gone differently, Diego thinks he likely would have. “She dead?”

Five shrugs. Mom hands each of them a plate of scrambled eggs, pan sausage, and hash browns. “I’ll make more when your siblings come down.” She steps out of the kitchen, gives the two their space.

Five’s lack of response bothers Diego more than he expects it to. “It’s a yes or no question, Five.” His fingers twitch.

“Thank you for that insightful clarification.” Always the smartass.

_“Five, is Cha-Cha dead?”_

From his first answer, Diego should have expected his brother’s next words, but he can’t help but hope that voice in his head is wrong.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Voice flat, Five raises his mug, toasts it in the air. “Cheers.”

In hindsight, punching his physically thirteen year old brother in the face was not the brightest decision Diego’s ever made.

Upon impact, Diego immediately draws his arm back, hurriedly steps away from his brother in silent shock. He doesn’t know when he stood up in the first place.

“Shit!” Five hisses, holds a hand up to his swelling eye. It’s the most emotion Diego’s gotten out of him this whole time. “Punching me isn’t going to bring her back, Diego!” Five glares at him. If he were a cat, Diego suspects his hackles would be raised right then. He's too ashamed right then to bite back at Five's words. Besides, he deserves the invisible cut they leave.

Diego attempts to shake the shock off, return himself to the moment. “Fuck,” he breathes out. He loosens his hand, unfurls it, reminds himself to breathe as it begins to tremble. “Let me, let me get you some ice.”

“Ice,” Five’s uninjured eye follows him as he moves. “Not an apology.”

How would Diego even start one?

“Do you want that to swell worse than it will?” Diego rhetorically asks as he digs through the freezer for an ice pack. He lets out a relieved sigh when he finally spots one. His hand’s stopped shaking. Small victories. He pulls the pack out, closes the freezer. He stops when he reaches the table’s edge, decides against returning to his previous seat. Instead, he tosses the pack to Five.

“I-,” he stops. He’s taken back to his fight with Luther in the courtyard during Dad's funeral. _Shit_. He’s learned _nothing_.

Five grimaces as the ice hits his skin. “She’s not where Vanya left her, Diego. Our sister threw Cha-Cha over the bar, and when I checked last night she was gone. She could be dead. She could be alive. Regardless, she’s no longer coming after us.”

“That’s,” he considers his words. “-something.”

“How intellectual of you.” It lacks his usual snark.

“I’m not happy about it,” Diego admits. “But I can’t do anything about it either.”

Luther joins them shortly afterwards. Neither Diego nor Five explain the new black eye Five sports. For once, Luther doesn’t push them on the issue past his initial query. Though from the side-eye he gives him, Diego can tell their brother's pieced it together.

Breakfast goes uneaten.

* * *

 

Once everyone’s awake, they eventually each find themselves drawn to the family room. No one calls the meeting. No one needs to.

The floor’s dry. Diego makes a mental reminder to thank Mom later. Even the corpses are gone. Diego’s less sure on who to thank for that.

It doesn’t take Diego long to pick up on the fact that none of his siblings are acting themselves. Luther’s reluctant to speak, doesn’t make a single move to initiate discussion. Vanya sits practically glued to Allison’s side, is even more taciturn than usual. Allison’s quiet, but Diego knows she can’t help that. No, something else grabs his attention. She’s only sitting on a couch, an act one does nearly daily, but Diego senses _something_ different from his sister. It’s in her posture, her eyes. It frustrates him that he can’t name it.

Klaus was the first to wander into the room. Diego seriously doubts he ate breakfast. Klaus appears alert, keeps his gaze moving from one person to the next, randomly glances beside him or off somewhere else in the room. Was Ben with him, here with them? He'd asked last night, but Klaus hadn't said much beyond the fact their dead brother said hi and thanks for the free lifts. Either Ben was there with Klaus whenever Diego would drop him off somewhere, or Klaus had filled him in later.

His mind drifts back to yesterday. Diego wonders how Klaus' leg’s doing. When the Commission's soldiers stormed the foyer, Diego immediately raced up the rest of the stairs to grab the high ground. He thought Klaus was right there next to him, but when he turned back, Klaus was stock still on the same step. He'd never moved. Diego watched helpless as his brother was shot and fell hard on the staircase, Klaus' leg giving out from under him. The shooter had a knife through his eye in seconds. When Klaus began to crawl up to him, injury and all, Diego knew there was a chance they'd both get out there alright. He knows it could have been worse, and is beyond grateful that it wasn't.

Diego runs a hand over his face, briefly squeezes his eyes closed. The memory vanishes, and he's back with his siblings, safe and alive.

Every now and then he catches Klaus reach for something around his neck. His hand searches for whatever it is, stops upon finding it, stays there for a moment or two. He can’t tell if Klaus is doing it intentionally or simply absentmindedly checking. By now he would have usually cracked a few jokes. He doesn’t.

Five joins them last. He waves off questions and concerns regarding his black eye. Diego doesn't miss the look Luther shoots his way.

Allison raises a notebook once they’re each sitting down. Diego guesses she found it that morning. _What do we do now?_

In the end, they don’t decide anything. Time passes, they throw different suggestions out there, but nothing reaches a consensus. Luther fails to lead them to any course of action. Vanya keeps her rare responses to short sentences or one word answers. Klaus makes some, in Diego’s opinion, good and valid points, but no one voices their support. They're each more interested in learning about Ben, but Klaus appears as lost as they are. Five attempts to lead, but Diego can tell he’s uncomfortable with all eyes on him. In the morning light, no one sees him as their long lost, time-traveling, ~~little~~ older brother. The hurt and betrayal is still too fresh for them all. Diego adds his two cents here and there, struggles to not automatically pick a fight when the conversation grows quiet or uncomfortable. 

Eventually, they just stop talking altogether. It’s Vanya who leaves first. She wakes herself from her haze, mumbles something about her apartment and work. Allison goes to stand up, but Vanya tells her she’ll be fine. Says she needs some space. Five jumps to the bar and snags an unbroken bottle before he leaves. Klaus says something before he exits, but Diego can’t recall for the life of him what he said.

Diego looks at the time, inwardly groans. The past week was the last thing he needed work and living-wise. Al’s going to have his head. _Better to get it over with now than later,_ he decides.

Well… if worse comes to worse, he still has his room here.

Diego prays it won’t come to that.


	3. Allison

When she doesn’t object, Luther gently lifts Vanya from her chair. Their sister is asleep, eyes closed, breaths steady. Five’s already teleported somewhere else, a concern for the morning. Klaus is still in the room. She wonders whether he’ll sleep in here tonight. Diego’s sitting, silently watches them.

Carefully, she rises from her seat, leans on Luther for support. He carries Vanya to her room, matches his pace with her own. She’s grateful for the consideration. Behind them, she hears her other brothers start to talk, but their words escape her. She doesn’t remember the last time she ate. Or drank. More concerns for later.

Allison stands in the doorway, watches as Luther tucks their sister into her bed. He rejoins her and opens his arms, a silent invitation. Allison accepts without hesitation. She falls into him, burrows her head in his chest. He rests his chin on her head, rubs circles into her back. Luther may have physically changed, but he was still Luther, her Luther. Her eyes grow wet, fights her tears from falling.

“Come on,” his words are hushed, faint murmurs in the night. She nods into him, lets him lead her away from Vanya’s room. With one more glance back, she sees him quietly pull the door shut. They move slowly to their end of the hall.

When Allison sleeps, she dreams of Vanya and Claire.

* * *

 

Allison is awake for a while before she finally convinces herself to leave her bed. She lies on her back, stares at the ceiling, listens to the sound of cars driving by outside. Thoughts plague her mind. It’s the first time since the funeral she’s been able to contemplate without the threat of stalkers, assassins, or the apocalypse hanging over her head.

She’s nearly over-stayed her visit. It’s either a great consideration on behalf of her agent or an early sign of her tanking career that no one’s contacted her to inquire when she’ll be back in LA. After last night, it appears she’ll be staying here for one more day at the minimum. At least until she can meet privately with Pogo and Mom. She wants to discuss her… health with each of them before she returns home. It's a depressing thought, but depending on what they have to say, she may not have a career much longer to return to.

The word home twists her stomach into knots. For the longest time, she thought this joyless academy was her home. Then she married Patrick, had Claire. She finally learned what a home was supposed to _be_. This place may have housed her, but it was never truly a home. No, for Allison, home was people: Luther, her daughter. It pains her to realize her other siblings don’t automatically spring to mind. They grew up together in this _place_ , but ~~were~~ _are_ practically strangers to each other.

Allison could blame the distance on each of them, free herself of accountability, but she knows that isn’t so. Relationships take two.

Before Leonard, Allison truly thought she was on the path to rebuilding her relationship with Vanya. Then, just as quickly, Vanya rejects her concern, her presence, chooses a complete stranger who claims to love her over Allison, her own sister.

The only person Allison has to blame is herself. She can’t fault Vanya, doesn’t fault her. Allison was deluding herself to think a few positive conversations out of nearly thirty years of hurt could heal the divide between them.

She wants to though. God, does she want to do better, _be_ _better_ , a better sister, a better mother.

Where’s Diego living? Is he working? Klaus, oh, Klaus, does he have anywhere to go after this, whatever _this_ is, ends? And Five! After seventeen years, their brother was back. She thinks he’s changed the most out of them all. When one question comes to mind, a dozen more follow. _She needs more time._ One day won't be enough to fix everything. She doubts it'll fix anything.

Allison lightly runs a finger over her bandage, imagines the scar that’ll eventually form. Someone outside honks their horn, another car’s alarm goes off.

* * *

 

She genuinely wants to hear their ideas when she raises her notebook. However, she’s not surprised when it ends with each of them going their own ways.

Klaus holds his stomach as he exits, laughs about needing to wash off the apocalypse. It’s a quick statement, said one minute, gone the next, but it stays with her. Gnaws at her.

When Diego leaves, she’s alone with Luther. There’s so much she wants to ask, to say, but she can only write so fast. With their other siblings gone, she thinks he seems more relaxed now than during the impromptu meeting.

 _Did Klaus sound off to you?_ She asks, hopes he sensed the same thing she did.

“Klaus? Off, how?” Luther looks confused. Then he shoots her a small, joking grin. “Surprised he actually bathes?”

She narrows her eyes at that and frowns. Almost throws her notebook at him, but Luther gets the message before she does. His grin is gone when he continues. “I’m sure he’s fine, Allison. Mom replaced his bandages while you and Vanya were eating.”

_He looked sick._

She sees Luther bite back whatever impulsive response jumps to his mind. She waits for him to gather his thoughts. “Allison, you know you could ask him.” It sounds so simple, yet she knows it wouldn’t be that easy.

She nods, glances to the floor. Puts it off.

* * *

 

It’s after lunch when they find themselves at a phone. Her words are written out already. She clutches the paper to her chest.

She dials the number, holds the phone to her ear until she hears Patrick’s voice. She hands the phone and paper to Luther. As the conversation unfolds, she feels tears prick the back of her eyes. She should be telling her ex-husband this, but she can’t. She can’t.

“Thank you, Patrick.” Luther pulls the phone away from his face, speaks to her. “He’s getting Claire, and he says he’s sorry to hear about…” She heard Luther’s end of the call, knows what he doesn’t say. She blinks back tears.

Quickly, Luther draws the phone back to his ear. “Claire.” She listens as he introduces himself, assures her Allison’s okay. “Your mom can’t talk right now, Claire, but she’d love to hear your voice.”

He hands the phone back. Allison’s crying before she hears her daughter’s voice.

“Mom!”

_Claire._

* * *

 

The gold heart pendant catches the light as she pulls out her chair and sits down. She's reminded of an unfinished feast, of young teenage dreams.

She lifts it up, lays the heart in her palm, rests the chain over her hand. _A + L_

Her heart squeezes at the letters. She gently runs her thumb over the inscription, and a melancholy longing for simpler times fills her. Old infatuation rushes her senses, but just as sudden the feeling disappears. She's left empty. 

Allison never saw Luther hurt Vanya yesterday. When she arrived, Vanya was already passed out, limp in their brother's arms. But Five- Five was _furious_. And then Luther admitted it, admitted he had hugged their sister as a way to deceive, so that he could shut her away. Out of sight. Out of mind. It'd been a hard truth to accept.

Suddenly, yesterday's Luther is replaced in her mind by today's. The brother who helped her contact Claire. The brother who gently hugged her, comforted her once the call ended, and she was left alone again, childless.

How could someone so familiar, so kind, then be the same person capable of hurting a sibling?

She realizes the necklace's still in her hand. Her skin feels hot, the pendant a burning coal in her palm. She quickly flips her hand over, stares as the necklace tumbles down, settles on her desk with a soft clink.

She can't think of what was. Not now. Not when she doesn't even know what tomorrow will bring, what will happen when she finally returns to LA.

Luther... She'll sort him out later. Despite the flaws, he's her brother. He's her best friend... _was_ her best friend. Maybe with time, they can rebuild. Reconnect the dots and find themselves a new normal.

Allison hopes she can eventually do that with each of her siblings. Those alive and dead.

* * *

 

She picks up Vanya for dinner, offers her an encouraging smile upon seeing her sister’s obvious hesitance.

_How are you doing?_

“Ask me after dinner?”

_Okay._

The taxi that dropped Allison off is still there. She smiles at the driver, hands him the address to the academy. It's a comfortably quiet trip back.

* * *

 

Dinner goes better than expected. Nothing breaks. No one gets into a fight. In hindsight, Allison realizes those are low standards to have.

Five scowls when Diego mentions the water he’s drinking. Snaps back that he’s a grown man and can drink whatever he damn pleases. Allison’s relieved to hear he’s not currently drinking vodka.

Five and Luther sit at one end of the table, Vanya at the other. No one questions it, each unsure how to even address it. Her heart aches when she sees her sister’s eyes grow big, alert anytime either brother moves from the table. Allison remembers how close Vanya and Five were as kids, wonders whether they’ll eventually find their way back to some semblance of that.

Diego and her sit closest to Vanya. Klaus sits next to Diego, an empty chair between Allison and Luther. She wonders if Ben’s sitting beside her. Klaus confirms her suspicions when he addresses him directly early on in the meal. How long has he been with them? With Klaus?

Her living brother in question provides the evening’s entertainment with various stories, but now and then his voice grows soft, his eyes wander. Then just as suddenly Klaus is back, finishes one tale and dives into another. Diego comments now and then, throws in his own snide remarks whenever one of the ~~six~~ seven of them is mentioned. It's strange, the seven of them enjoying a meal together in presence of their own voices and not an oppressive silence.

When they finish eating, the room grows quiet. Five drains his glass dry, sets it down with a tiny clink.

“Vanya.” Allison realizes it’s the first time he’s looked directly at their sister the whole evening. “Have you decided what you want to do?” She thinks back to the morning, recalls how uncomfortable Vanya became when anyone mentioned her newly discovered powers.

Vanya swallows, stares at her empty plate. She blinks a few times, then raises her head to meet Five’s gaze. There’s a confidence in her voice that’s been absent from her posture and actions all day. It reminds her how resilient her sister actually is.

“I want to prove Dad wrong.”

* * *

 

Allison knows one family dinner won’t solve everything.

_Luther’s regret, anger, loss of purpose._

_Diego’s grief, his current situation with the law, the need to avenge._

_Her injury, her career, visitation._

_Klaus’ addictions, his sickly pale appearance, the pained expressions when he thinks no one’s looking._

_Five’s young body, the years he lived alone and away from them, his reliance on alcohol to cope._

_Ben’s current existence._

_Vanya’s powers, her broken heart, her guilt for an event she never caused but could._

Allison knows one family dinner won’t solve everything, and it doesn’t.

But it’s a start.


	4. Klaus (HIATUS EXPLANATION IN END NOTE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read Chapter 3 before May 8th, 2019, please consider rereading it. At least before reading Chapter 6 once it's eventually posted. Chapter 5 should be up sometime next week. Lastly, I've added a few things in Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, but nothing as major as the extra section in 3.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE END!

Everything goes to shit after dinner. At least for everyone else. Klaus’ day is shit from the get-go, and there isn’t much that can rival the various withdrawal symptoms he’s been (and currently) experiencing. For him, his evening just gets marginally shittier.

Everything goes to shit and spectacularly fast, too. In hindsight, all seven of them were in the same enclosed space, so disaster was bound to strike eventually. The night before, this morning, dinner? All flukes in Klaus’ book. Heck, Five woke up with a shiny new black eye. Deep down they were all still hurt from their childhoods, the past week, _the day before_. Klaus is amazed it took as long as it did for tensions to finally boil over. He mentions that sentiment to Ben.

Ben disapproves of his pessimistic thoughts, but Klaus flips his goodbye hand up at him. They were all effed up, and Ben knew it as well as any of them. Of course, the only differences between Klaus and his living siblings was the fact he accepted that truth about himself years ago & was more flashy about it.

As Klaus stands in the oppressive basement observing his siblings dissolve into a heated argument, he considers telling Ben he told him so, but refrains. Klaus is disappointed to be proven right, as he really hoped things were going to go Ben’s way this time. The two watch as the situation escalates. If he could do something, he would (probably.) As it stands, he leaves his brothers and sisters to sort their shit out. After, _all of this_ , he’ll take Vanya aside, wrap her up in a hug, tell her she’s not alone.

 _(And that’s exactly what he does._ )

But Klaus is getting away from himself. Everything is currently a pile of flaming turds and getting worse, yes, but the day hadn’t nearly been so bad (if you subtract the withdrawal).

* * *

He doesn’t sleep after Diego helps him to his own room. Insomnia is a symptom of withdrawal Klaus is unfortunately familiar with, so he’s unsurprised to find that he passes the early morning hours tossing and turning in bed, still awake. He's reminded of the cots in Vietnam. He unconsciously begins to scratch at himself, phantom itches along his body, the same sensation that greeted him when he returned to the present.

Ben leaves him be after initially checking in with him. How’s the leg? Know how you made me corporeal? Klaus doesn’t have much to offer his brother in reply. Lastly, Ben tells him he’s proud of Klaus for not accepting the pain medication Mom offered to give him. Imagines the struggle that must have been. Klaus doesn’t remind him that Ben already told him that back in the infirmary. His brother’s verbal approval is nice to hear again, even if repetitive.

Klaus reaches under the sheets to touch his bandaged leg. He spends ten months in war, but gets shot on some stairs in the academy. Just his shitty luck. He wonders what Dave would have said about that.

He recalls how, for a moment, he thought he was actually back there, back to a few days ago... decades ago and a world away. Damn. Klaus has a sinking feeling something like that might happen again. He’s finally going full-in on sobering up, only to receive- what? Flashbacks? Hallucinations? PTSD? Fuck. These were not thoughts to be having at three in the morning.

He grips Dave’s tags, reminds himself of Ben materializing, protecting them in the infirmary. Withdrawal sucks, but he’ll survive it. And whatever this new stuff is? He’ll get through that, too. Even if it’ll be a major pain in the ass without some chemical intervention, he’ll push through. Sober.

Dave and Ben were- _are_ worth getting sober for, worth _staying_ sober for.

He has a long road ahead of him, indeed.

* * *

Grace knocks on his door around seven. She glides in, and redresses his wound.

“How did you sleep, Dear?”

“Didn't, but I’ll let you know tomorrow.” Grace nods at his answer, but doesn’t question further. Either she’s unable to register what his comment implied, or she chooses not to pry. Klaus doesn’t really know or care.

“There,” she smiles at her handiwork. “All done. There’s breakfast in the kitchen downstairs. Would you like assistance?”

Klaus thanks her for the offer, but waves her off. Assures her he’ll pop into the kitchen shortly. He eventually does pop in, but decides against putting anything in his stomach right then. Both Allison and Vanya are at the table when he drops by, and staying in there with only them just doesn’t feel... appropriate. If he had stayed he doubts he would have kept himself from blurting out something royally mood killing.

Instead, he waltzes his way to the family room, stretches out on one of the sofas like a house cat. It’s dry, which is a nice surprise. Mom must have cleaned up in the night, because without having lived through it, Klaus wouldn’t have guessed a bunch of hit men were there approximately twelve hours ago.

He doesn’t know when everyone else files in to join him, but he does notice the growing nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’s glad he passed on breakfast.

* * *

They all want to know about Ben, to see Ben. Heck, Klaus does, too, but he doesn’t remotely know how to recreate what happened yesterday. Thankfully, the discussion moves away from his new power(s?), but everything else they touch on ends about the same way. Unsatisfying.

The nauseousness is growing harder to ignore. He feels the shakes start up as the impromptu meeting finally ends. Klaus makes his way out of the room, hurries up the stairs to an available bathroom. Ben goes to pat his back as he dry heaves. His hand goes through him.

* * *

Diego doesn’t say anything as he enters his bedroom with a box. Klaus wants to ask, oh does he ever, but he still feels physically sick. Pissing off Diego is the last thing he wants to do right then.

He stands in the doorway, leans up against one side of the frame. “Need help?”

“No, and before you ask, it’s my business.”

Klaus uncrosses his arms, raises his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t going to ask. Swear.”

Diego gives a half snort. “Right.”

“Didn’t see you at lunch. Had to eat alone.” Ben reminds him Allison and Luther joined. Klaus glances over to his dead brother. “Like I said. I ate _alone_.” Well, practically, thinks Klaus. Ben closes his eyes and groans.

Diego doesn’t comment.

Diego has his back to him, so he doesn’t see when Klaus spies the rabbit foot keychain attached to his belt. Klaus briefly stares at it in confusion. Huh. He didn't know Diego owned one of those.

Ben suggests they leave him be, and Klaus agrees.

“Ben, what do you say to a family dinner tonight?” Klaus wonders aloud, his arms once more wrap tight around him. They meander back to Klaus’ bedroom.

“Honestly? I’d ask if you were high.” Klaus chuckles at that. The same thought crossed his own mind when he got the idea.

* * *

Allison must think the idea is great because after he suggests it she begins writing out a menu for Mom to cook. She writes that she’ll pick up Vanya when it’s closer to time. Klaus and Ben think that’s the best chance they have to convince their other sister to join.

Luther and Allison aren’t leaving the academy for the immediate future. Diego’s obviously moving back in, but Klaus will wait to hear the news from his brother. Regardless, he seriously doubts Diego’s about to hit up a restaurant after surviving the apocalypse (or should it be the not-apocalypse? the notcalypse?) Five looks like an angry teenager and only arrived to this time a week ago. Just like Diego, Five doesn’t strike Klaus as a guy who’d pass up on a free meal. Shit. What did Five do for food in the apocalypse? Klaus shakes his head and lightly slaps his cheeks, pulls himself away from that troubling rabbit hole.

Allison tells him a little bit later that Vanya agreed to attend. Klaus wonders who she got to speak from this end of the phone.

* * *

Dinner’s not as uncomfortable as their morning meeting was, but it’s not much better either. Klaus decides to fill the meal with stories, anything to break through the thick silence. 'Ole Reggie was dead, so they could commiserate at meals to their hearts' content whenever they saw fit. The lack of sleep rests itself in his bones, pauses his mind in mid-thought now and then. He was able to keep lunch down, but there’s no guarantee he’ll be as lucky twice in a day. His hands slightly shake. There’s a dull headache forming at the base of his skull.

When they finish eating, but before anyone makes a move to leave, Five speaks up, addresses Vanya directly.

“Have you decided what you want to do?”

Vanya swallows, stares at her empty plate. She blinks a few times, then raises her head to meet Five’s gaze.

“I want to prove Dad wrong.”

Five gives a single nod, his face clear of emotion. Klaus suspects he must approve of the idea because he doesn’t make any suggestion for Vanya to return to her pills. _Dad’s pills._ _Oh_ , Klaus _definitely_ wants to talk with Vanya privately about those little devils.

“If everyone’s done eating, there’s a matter of top priority that needs to be addressed immediately.” No one knows what Five’s referring to. They wait with bated breath for Five to elaborate. His brother does not disappoint.

“Dad’s soundless prison in the basement.”

* * *

Everything goes to shit after dinner, but Klaus thinks in the end it could have gone worse. Despite fists flying and Dad’s prison getting blasted to smithereens, no one is seriously injured or dies from the visit to the basement. Definitely not as bad as it could have been.

Klaus sleeps some that night, but it’s not restful in the slightest. (In the morning, he wakes with a crick in his neck and a pounding headache.) He drifts off sitting on Vanya's couch in her apartment. “Golden Girls” eventually becomes info commercials, the light and faint noise comforts in the dark. Vanya lies on the couch with him, her head in his lap. They pass out in the middle of the third episode of a four episode block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/19/19 Author’s Note:
> 
> Hello. I am not sure whether anyone will read this, but I have decided to do a major overhaul of this entire piece. Over the next few weeks, I will be revising/enhancing “Tonight, Bleed Into Tomorrow,” before rewriting “All of Our Tomorrows.” As this is presently, the story I want to write and share is not here. Aspects are, but I know that if I allowed myself the time to sketch out the entire piece and write each chapter without any self-imposed deadlines, then I would be able to do more justice to my concept and provide y’all with a better story and improved writing.
> 
> As the rewrites progress, I plan to eventually remove the text from these four chapters, so I may insert the new (and longer) chapters in their place. I also hope to have the entire story written (or nearly complete) before I begin posting the new versions.
> 
> In addition, I plan to keep 85%-96% of what I originally wrote (and what you can presently still read as 12/19/19). However, instead of this piece’s timeline slowly advancing with each new chapter, I’m high key considering each chapter cover a similar range of time (with some variances here and there). This rewrite will allow me to present long (5,000+ words at min) chapters, each detailing a series of events and moments from multiple perspectives. This (should) allow someone to read any chapter in any order and get a self-contained narrative. When read together, though, one receives a more accurate and holistic tale.
> 
> (Will revise this AN at a later date/time, as it is the early morning hours where I am, and sleep calls me forth. 12/19/19)
> 
> All of this to say... if you’d like to read the new version of this I am brainstorming and will write, please consider marking this as ‘something to read later” or by subscribing.


End file.
